“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing; only I’m so excited I can’t quite keep still.”

“Afraid for our side?”

“We’re going to win!” asserted Dick, stubbornly.

“Yet you’re shaking!”

“It is buck fever, I guess.  O Dave, I do love this grand old game!”

Coach Morton half turned, sending a comprehending smile at the earnest young freshman.

“I wonder if you’d feel like that,” ventured Dave, “if you were one of our fellows out there on the gridiron.”

“Not for a second,” spoke up Prescott, promptly.  “I know what I would be doing though.”

“What?”

“I’d he Singing inside—–­singing songs of triumph over the game we were going to win—–­the game we just had to win!”

“You’d be pretty confident,” smiled Darrin.

“Yes, I would,” Dick asserted.  “I believe it’s the only spirit worth having—–­the firm conviction that you’re going to win, and that nothing can stop you.”

Coach Morton turned long enough to say: 

“Prescott, I wish you were old enough and big enough to be out there on our team now.  When your time comes I certainly hope you’ll make the eleven.  Your spirit is what every high school needs.”

Blushing a bit, Dick drew the score card out of his pocket.  He knew the Gridley side of it by heart, already, but he wanted to read it over again.  This was the line-up that he saw: 

Gridley H.S.  Positions  Cobber Second
Evans .....left end..........Paisley
Butler.....left tackle.......Jordrey
Beck.......left guard........Smith
Badger.....center ...........Halsey
Thompson...right guard.......Jennison
Edgeworth..right tackle......Potter
Stearns....right end.........Adams
Winters....quarter-back......Bentley
Jasper.....right half-back...Haddleston
Trent .....left half-back....Dill
Gleason....fullback..........Strope

“Why isn’t Edgeworth in center?” asked Dave, glancing down over Dick’s shoulder.

“Played down a bit too fine to hold center in a big game like this,” Dick answered.  “Edgeworth is a corking center, and I wouldn’t be afraid to see him there today.  But Ben Badger is every bit as good.”

Coach Morton drew in his breath sharply.  Referee Henderson had just signaled to Badger, acting captain for the home team, and Halsey, captain of the Cobbers, to come in for the toss.  The players halted in their work to await the result of that toss.

“You call, Halsey,” nodded Ben Badger.

“Up!” warned the referee, and flipped the coin.

“Tails!” sang Captain Halsey.

“Heads it is,” announced Referee Henderson.

Ben Badger grinned.

“It’s all starting our way,” clicked Dick Prescott, in an undertone. 
He seemed lost in a transport of ecstasy.

CHAPTER XV

GRIDLEY FACES DISASTER